Smell the Roses
by Shay59317
Summary: Katherine had opened the door to hundreds of roses. She knew they were from him; he had found her.


**Smell the Roses**

He'd searched all over the world for Katherine: plane tickets, hotels, registries—whatever he could find, but the rare few times he'd managed to catch her trail, he was always mere days behind her.

Not this time.

At last, he'd found her once again, _and_ _she was still here_. His runaway resided in this very apartment, the one that he was currently standing in the middle of. His bare feet made little sound as they skimmed over the oak hardwood flooring. Her living area wasn't messy, but there was obvious evidence that the place was well lived in. Various articles of clothing were thrown over furniture, a pair of flip flops lay precariously by the front door, and a stale coppery scent, blood, permeated the air. It was doubtful that the blood was drank more than two hours ago. He would have to be quick; it was unclear when she'd return.

Before he started, he took in the smell of her once more. In the past, he could only smell faint traces of her in the places she'd stayed before she had moved on, but now her scent pervaded every corner of the place—she must've been here a while—and he couldn't get enough of it. She smelled of citrus, leather, and something purely Katherine that he found that words just couldn't describe. The curly haired brunette smelled like home. After years of searching, he'd finally come _home_.

He got to work, creating a monumental masterpiece just for her. She'd know it was him; he knew this without a doubt. His scent alone would give it away. Still he didn't stop until every bleeding color was her own: red. Red for her strength, something she had an abundance of; how else could she have survived the brutality of five hundred years on the run without losing her sanity? It was also red for power, determination, passion, desire, and perhaps the most significant—love.

Every drop of red was a declaration as well as a proposition, and he sure as hell wouldn't stand idly by and watch her leave before she received the full depth of his message.

* * *

Katherine strode into her hotel room carrying a dozen or so shopping bags, and slammed the door behind her with a shiny red heel. She'd barely begun crossing the hardwood when she registered the state of her apartment, and for all her bags to hit the floor simultaneously. An aroma of flowers assaulted her senses, and she grew pale at the sight before her.

Katherine had opened the door to hundreds of roses.

She knew they were from him; _he had found her_. As if following a mental queue, he sauntered into the room, looking as though not a day had gone by since she had last saw him. He was here. She needed to leave.

Before she had the chance to flee, he was leaning against the closed door, gazing at her with expressive green eyes, "Wait."

"Stefan," Katherine acknowledged tersely. She shifted her weight impatiently, urging him silently to go on. He cautiously edged towards her until he stood a yard and a half away from her; it was a distance they both could cross in under a second.

It was the way she acknowledged him that made him finally explode; her greeting—if you could even call it that—was cold and detached, like him being there had no effect on her at all. It was the way you'd greet someone you briefly knew long ago, and now they were nothing more than strangers. And Stefan wasn't just _some_ _guy_ she'd talked to a couple times in passing, or some brief fling they'd had during vacation. No, he loved her—still did if the field of red around them were any indication—and from what he could tell, she loved him just as much. They'd been together happily for months…then she threw it all away. He'd worried for her for months, wondering if someone had taken her against her will until he'd finally received a letter from her, telling him to stay away. After that he stewed for a while, pissed off and confused as to why she'd done what she did. That anger morphed into something akin to determination, and that was when he began searching for her. He figured that if she wanted him to stay away, she better goddamn well say it to his face. Otherwise, he refused to give up. It was with this in mind that he lost all restraints, and like a dam cracking open, he brought everything out into the open.

"You aren't running away from this, from _me_ anymore. I've given chase just as I'd promised, and in doing so have risked everything I hold dear. So please Katherine—I beg of you, don't leave. Because if you walk out that door…I'm done." Stefan let loose a defeated breath. Every inch of him pleaded with her to hear him out, and she couldn't help but comply, for now. "I'll be out of your life for good. I'll leave you be. I promise to not get within a hundred miles of you if you wish. I love you more than life itself Katherine, and it'll destroy me if you choose to step out that door, but I'm still going to give you that choice. It'll be _your_ choice that will either make us or break us. But I'm warning you now, that if you choose to stay with me, you'll be mine forever. And every time you even ponder the thought of running again, I want you to remember that _you_ were the one that chose me; I want you to remember that I didn't force you to be with me. I don't want you to resent me in the future; I want you to remember that this was your choice. Do you understand?" He finished strongly and moved forward to cup her jaw and stroked the slender, rosy cheekbones with trembling thumbs.

"Yes," Katherine whispers hoarsely, throat strained with emotion as she stood frozen beneath his fingertips. Stefan turns slowly, pointing to the path of flower petals that lead to the suite's only bedroom, "If you'd like to stay, follow the petals and they'll bring you to me. If not, just slip out the door, leave, and this'll be the last time you'll ever see me. I promise," His last words are like a caress: so soft and fragile, yet there was a certain sting to every syllable, like an undercurrent of pain, as if she'd already left him and the anguish of her doing so was already eating away at him.

 _He thinks I'll leave,_ Katherine realized. A lump grew in her throat along with an emotion she'd felt only a handful of times—guilt. And it was then that she started to really look at Stefan, and found that she was wrong in her earlier assessment. He didn't look like the man she'd left so long ago sleeping peacefully in his bed. He may have been immortal, but it still looked like he'd aged, and not in a good way. He looked haggard, and dark circles half mooned beneath his eyes, manifesting the many sleepless nights he'd faced over her. If it were possible for a vampire to lose weight, Katherine was sure that the clothes he wore would've hung off Stefan. Before she could think to speak to him, he was gone. Guilt twists her stomach uncomfortably. It seems she'd broken him more than she'd ever realized. But shouldn't he have known that it was all inevitable with her? Katherine Pierce was a heartbreaker. She was cursed to run for her own survival all because of a foolish decision she'd made in her youth. It wouldn't be safe for him to be with her; she'd only doom him to running with her. The strange need to protect another besides her own self was new, foreign. She'd never felt that particular way for anyone before him.

The ones before him were men that she'd toyed with for her own amusement. Even Stefan, at the beginning, was thought of as a simple plaything. They'd never been real. It'd never been serious. She was way out of her depth here, floating in the waters of uncertainty.

Katherine could leave just as he'd explained to her, never to see him again, but she found that her heart wouldn't allow her to make such a brash decision. She would dare say that she _wanted_ to be with him. But it was a risk. Did she actually love him? Or was what she was feeling something else entirely? She'd repressed her emotions for her own survival for so long now that it was hard for her to decipher her own feelings. The idea was entirely laughable. Katherine Pierce, who could read people as easily as an open book couldn't determine her own emotions; the irony wasn't lost on her. She decided on a simpler question. Could she handle the risks of being with him? _Yes_. The though was purely subconscious and startled her momentarily; she was ready for a full on internal war. Did she love him? She wasn't sure, but whatever she felt, she didn't want it to go away.

While her heart swayed one, her mind had a whole other idea. Her mind was conditioned to be cautious, thorough in its planning, and above all to ensure her own freedom. The idea of being tied to someone else, leaving herself vulnerable to another for the rest of her undead life caused warning bells to go off in her head. Her body itched to run away, it's just what it's used to doing. In the past, if there was a sliver of a chance that her safety might be compromised, she was gone before the dawn could greet the morning dew. Her need to be free was a human's need for oxygen, or a human's need for water. She needed it, craved it.

It was as if her body had a mind of its own, and the next time she blinked, she was at the door. Her fingers twitched towards smooth metal. As the cool texture met her warm flesh, Katherine's hand lingered on the knob and twisted. The door swung open, and she was met with fresh air. It was there. Freedom was in her grasp. The open hallway was right in front of her which would lead straight to the lobby, where she could check out and get on the next flight out of Paris within the next couple hours.

 _But…_

Katherine's hazel orbs lingered on petals, eyes burning with emotion, and she threw caution to the wind.

Epilogue

"Damon, I'm fine." Stefan repeated again with a roll of his eyes. "We'll be over in twenty minutes. _You know how she is_ ," he bemoaned lowly as his eyes flickered around him. Stefan was sprawled across the couch of his living room with his arm propped against the back cushion for support as he pressed the phone to his ear. A sixty-inch TV displayed a rerun of the Giants' game with the volume set on its lowest setting for background noise.

"I heard that," Katherine called from their bedroom's bathroom. Regardless of the fact that she couldn't see him, Stefan shrugged unapologetically with a shameless smile. It was around seven minutes later that the brunette entered the room, showing off the hours long work she'd put into her appearance. Stefan gave her a once over, skimming over the black dress with matching thigh high boots and wolf whistled. She'd put on light makeup, and her face glowed with her natural beauty.

"Beautiful," he complimented adoringly, bending over to plant a kiss over her knuckle. She smiled softly at him, _his_ smile. The one that was for his eyes alone. It was a smile that gave him a glimpse of the young girl she used to be before she'd been tangled in the web of supernatural creatures.

Katherine shakes her head, "I'm not finished yet." A knowing smirk crawled over her face as he groaned. She smacked the first part of him that she could reach: his bicep. "Stop your whining," Katherine rebuked. Her boots made a series of clacks as she crossed the room to the end table, holding a vase with a dozen beautiful blooming roses. She plucks one of the roses from the bouquet and sticks it out for Stefan to grab. He gently grabs the rose and tucks it carefully into her old fashioned updo, making sure to secure it properly to keep it from falling out. "Now I'm done," Katherine announces cheekily. The back of his finger brushed her cheek wondrously.

"Is that—?" Stefan questioned sharply, astonishment coloring his tone. Katherine stares at him innocently.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Katherine informed him.

"Are those the same roses I decorated your apartment with five years ago?" Stefan clarified, knowing she already knew what he was talking about.

Katherine shrugged nonchalantly, "Yeah, so?"

"Well I don't believe my eyes, _the_ Katherine Pierce is a sap," Stefan gasped humorously. The brunette shoots him a scalding glare.

"And if you mention that to anyone, you'll be sleeping on the couch indefinitely," Katherine smiled sweetly at him. Stefan's eyes mockingly widened hugely and he vigorously shook his head.

"Nope, definitely not gonna tell anyone." Stefan agreed solemnly.

"Good," Katherine kissed him briefly as to not smear her lipstick and strut for their front door.

"So, how'd you convince Bonnie to spell those roses into stasis?" Stefan chuckled as realization dawned on him; magic would explain why they haven't wilted after five long years.

"I have my ways," Katherine declared cryptically with a wink. Then the couple meandered out the door with their fingers laced between them.

As Katherine sat on the porch of her doppelganger and Damon's house, she found that she had no urge to run any longer. She was sick and tired of that life, and refused to take two leaps backward after how much she'd fought to get where she is now. The brunette had made her choice when she'd kicked open the door to her apartment's bedroom and had ended that day with perhaps one of the most spectacular nights of hot sex that she's ever had. Stefan had barely left her side ever since. It was stifling at first, but she'd shown him pretty quickly that it would only end terribly for him if he got on her nerves. He loosened the leash after _that_ spectacle.

All in all, after a half a millennium of running, she'd finally reached her destination; one she hadn't been expecting. And the most glorious part of it all? She was _happy_.

Katherine Pierce had finally stopped running.


End file.
